The Rival Crusoes

by William Henry Giles Kingston

He was puffing and blowing away, and making but slow progress, when he saw Neptune—who had disappeared in the same mysterious way as he had done on the previous day—coming scampering along the beach. He called the dog, who with a bound plunged in and swam towards him. He placed the tow-rope in the mouth of the animal, who, seeming to know perfectly well what to do, swam with it towards the shore, allowing his master to rest his hand on his back. He thus, in a much shorter time than would otherwise have been possible, reached the beach. He felt so fatigued that he had to rest while the hot sun dried his body, before he could again put on his clothes.

Neptune, who was now aware of the freight he had brought ashore, waited as if to see what more was required of him. Suddenly he seemed to recollect that he had another duty to perform, and running back to the spot from which he had leapt into the water, he took up a pigeon, which he brought to his master.

“You are a wonderful dog,” said Lord Reginald, patting his head. “How have you managed to catch this bird?”

He would gladly have got through the painful task he had set himself, but the pangs of hunger made him determine to cook the bird first. Following the plan he had adopted on the previous evening, he soon had it plucked and spitted. As he opened the crop he was surprised to see three large nuts drop to the ground, which split as they fell; it seemed wonderful that the pigeon could have swallowed them, large as they were. The kernels, which he put into the fire and roasted, were especially nice and served instead of bread. Neptune, as before, came in for the remainder of the bird. He ate it up, but not greedily, as if he was in want of food. “The rogue has been catering for himself, I suspect I hope that he may bring me something for dinner, for though a pigeon a day is something, sufficient to keep body and soul together, I shall require more to retain my strength.” As he again rose a sensation of lassitude oppressed him. He felt very much disinclined for the painful task he had undertaken. It must be done, however, and rousing himself he seized the wooden spade he had before used, and set to work to dig a grave near that of Voules. He had not long been engaged in his task, when looking up he saw Richard Hargrave approaching. This at once made him suspect that he had been watched by his rival, although he had not discovered him.

“I don’t like to see you engaged in that sort of work; it is as much my duty as yours,” said Dick. “So I have come to help you.”

“I shan’t require your aid,” answered Lord Reginald, haughtily; “you can bury any of the men you may find, but I choose to bury this young officer myself.”

“Very well, do as you like,” said Dick, indignant at having his well-meant offer refused. “I thought as we had both suffered a common misfortune, you would have been glad of the society and assistance of a fellow-creature.”

“You don’t suppose that any common misfortune would bring me down to your level?” exclaimed Lord Reginald. “I don’t require either your sympathy or your assistance; all I desire is that you should keep out of my way, and remember that I am still your officer.”

“I remember that you were once my officer, and that as such you took every opportunity to show your ill-feelings towards me, or allowed others to do so. One of them lies there, and unless you exercise such sense as you have got, you’ll soon take your place by his side. I speak plainly, but I speak the truth. Except the few shell-fish, and the couple of cocoanuts you have picked up, you have been unable to procure any food for yourself.”

“You are wrong there,” said Lord Reginald; “my faithful dog has catered for me, and I have no doubt he will continue to do so; but I do not choose to waste words on you. Be off, and look after your own affairs.”